


And I'm Proud of You Still (DEArtFest)

by EmiMakesAnAttempt



Category: Detroit Evolution - Fandom, Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: #DEArtFest, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Western, Amnesia, Asexual Nines, Elijah Kamski & Gavin Reed are Siblings, F/F, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Octopunk Media's Detroit: Evolution Fan Film, Prompt Fill, Sharing a Bed, Time Travel, how could this go wrong, reverse au, the floor is good time management, this is going into august now i'm sorry
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-01
Updated: 2020-07-31
Packaged: 2021-03-04 20:01:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 19,334
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25012051
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmiMakesAnAttempt/pseuds/EmiMakesAnAttempt
Summary: Somehow, across time and space, across every reality and every decision, no matter how far apart they were- it was always each other.Misadventures with the Detroit Evolution gang for DEArtFest!
Relationships: Tina Chen (Detroit: Become Human)/Valerie Morales-Chen, Upgraded Connor | RK900/Gavin Reed
Comments: 13
Kudos: 43





	1. Day 1- Reverse AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Day 1- Reverse AU**   
>  **In Another Place and Time**
> 
> A DE scene re-imagined with a reverse AU!

Ferndale was the type of place that local councils liked to refer to as “under development”, and had been for almost ten years. 

The city itself was a patchwork of industrial and residential buildings sewn together with brick walls, all forming a single, heaping mass. The ground shook where the trains rumbled past. Dog barks seemed to echo from every direction. There was a lingering dampness in the air- though whether that was from the chill of winter or a byproduct of the area, it was difficult to tell- and in the middle of the night, everything felt smothered. Dull. 

Everything happened to include the air around the police car that sat in the empty parking lot. It was lit only by the few weak flood lights on the wall of the nearby apartment complex, casting thin, pale shadows along the ground. They cut through the windows of the car sharply and fell on the detectives inside, much to the amusement of the GV200, who was very quick to point out that they made Nines look even more like an overtired mess than he usually was. 

“You’re hilarious, Gavin, really,” he drawled in response, not looking away from his binoculars. “I’m so very glad I’m stuck on a stakeout with you for several hours.”

Gavin shrugged with a smug smile. “Eh, don’t worry, meat sack. I can’t make you look like any more of an idiot then you already do with those fuckin’ binoculars.”

Nines paused from his surveying just long enough to shoot him a withering look. His smile only grew. “Sometimes I forget that you’re the absolute pinnacle of professionalism, and then we end up here, and I’m forced to remember.”

“You love me,” he snorted. He shifted slightly to pull his coat a little more around himself. Without the engine running, the heater had turned off, and while he didn’t feel the cold in the way Nines did, the feeling of his biocomponents stuttering wasn’t exactly a pleasant one. He told himself that had nothing to do with his current proximity to his partner. “Besides, you can’t lecture me about professionalism. Every time we do this, you always talk to the suspect like you’re a disappointed teacher.”

Nines frowned. “I do not.”

“You absolutely do. You get a _look_. It’s like you’ve called them into the principal’s office to give them a talking to.”

“A _Stern_ talking to,” a voice crackled suddenly through the radio. A few seconds of silence passed before, “okay, come on, you guys, that was a good one. Ada would have laughed. My talents are wasted here.”

Nines turned his exasperated gaze to the radio, leaning back in his seat. “Has there been any movement on your end, Officer Fratello?”

Lazzo gave a sigh. There was a sound suspiciously similar to a chip packet being torn open. “Nothing yet. Mostly just pissed off seagulls going at each other’s throats. Unless you want me to arrest the seagulls for disorderly conduct, which I will totally do, ‘cause that shit sounds hilarious.”

“Somehow, I think we’re alright. There’s no movement here either. Barely even anything around the apartments. I’m beginning to think it’s more likely you’ll find something at the docks.”

“Nah, I think you should hold out. More of the deals happen around the back of the apartments, there’s way less cameras there ‘cause it’s cheaper to skimp out on security in the places where jack shit happens.” Lazzo explained, and paused. “Not that I’d know anything about that. It’s… y’know. It’s police business.”

“Of course it is,” Nines shook his head. “You are incredibly lucky Captain Stern likes you.” 

Lazzo gave a huff around a mouthful of chips. “I will not sit here and be lectured about the captain’s favoritism by her literal adopted son. Anyway, speaking of favourites, I’m just gonna say it right now- you guys better not leave me alone at Ada’s promotion party next week. Look, I love her and Dahlia to death, don’t get me wrong, but there’s only so much time I can spend third wheeling and talking about work before I have an honest-to-god mental break.”

“Yeah, don’t worry, we’re won’t leave you to your misery for too long,” Gavin’s LED spun yellow for a second, then back to blue. “Neither of us have anything on. We’ll be there.” 

Nines frowned, lowering the binoculars. “You- do you have my schedule?”

Gavin shrugged non-committedly. “Unless you’ve got some wild partying to do you haven’t told me about, yeah, I’ve got your schedule. C’mon, don’t give me that look. You do, like, three things. Work, sleep, and procrastinate sleeping by working.”

Nines looked like he wanted to argue, but slowly turned his head back to the windscreen.

The radio crackled again. “Fellas, is it gay to have a memorized schedule and mild flirtatious banter on a stake out with the homies?”

“I’m going to get you fired,” Nines muttered. After a moment, he added, “besides, I’m not the one spending his time exchanging jokes and less than professional sentiments with another android during an investigation.”

It was Gavin’s turn to frown. His LED spun yellow again. “Are you talking about Chris?”

Nines didn’t look away from his binoculars, but he could swear he saw him roll his eyes. “Of course I’m ‘talking about Chris’.” 

“I- what? Look, I don’t know what the hell you think is going on there, but- he’s a fun guy, sure, but he’s a contact. He’s not…” he searched for the right words as he shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “…exactly my type.”

Not that it was any of Nines’ business, he told himself, but his attention was already… focused elsewhere. As much as he wished it wasn’t, and would rather die than tell him that.  
Nines’ voice seemed a little lower and more strained than before. “And… what would your type be, then? Hypothetically?”

Gavin shifted again, feeling like he was starting to burn up, LED cycling a steady yellow. He silently cussed out his socialization protocols. What the fuck kind of android needed to blush? “Ah- Jesus, Nines, I don’t know. I don’t need all of the bells and whistles, just… someone I get along with. Who can challenge my shit once in a while. Chris is cool, but he’s not… that for me.”

Another silence stretched between them. Gavin fiddled awkwardly with his jacket. It was as if Nines was processing the words, and if he closed his eyes, he could almost imagine him with his own spinning LED. The longer he was quiet, the more nervous Gavin became. 

A few more seconds passed before Nines cleared his throat, fixing his gaze out the windscreen again. “Well, it’s… it’s good to know I don’t have to worry about you abandoning our partnership to have a tryst with our Jericho contact.”

A flash of hurt dug into him at the words, the way he said it so casually, and his LED burned suddenly red. “Jesus Christ, Nines, do you seriously think I’d do that?”

He frowned and opened his mouth to respond, before a crashing sound outside the car made both of their heads snap to attention. Someone had rounded the corner of the apartment, and the contents of the box they’d been carrying were now splayed out on the ground in front of them. Gavin caught a flash of white plastic before they hurriedly scooped it up and shoved it back into the box. 

He sighed and leaned back in his seat, taking a breath as his LED calmed back to yellow. He knew Nines hadn’t meant harm by it, it was just- a sensitive subject. From the way the figure outside was scrambling to put the box back together and cover it up, he figured they still had a few minutes. 

“…What about you, then, meat sack?” He ventured, and waved a hand vaguely at Nines’ confused glance. “C’mon, don’t leave me with this whole ‘baring my soul’ shit by myself. You’re so interested in my type, it’s your turn.”

Nines blinked. “Oh. Uh- I suppose I’m the same, to an extent. Physical appearance doesn’t really factor into it for me. It’s… more about how I connect with a person. That isn’t to say that I couldn’t appreciate certain aspects of one’s appearance, but it isn’t wholly necessary, I suppose. If I’m honest, I’d just like someone who could tolerate me.”

Gavin scrunched up his nose. “‘Tolerate’?”

“You’ve said it yourself, I’m not known as the most emotionally available human in the world.”

He snorted. “Yeah, but, I mean- you shouldn’t settle for someone who just tolerates you. You’re not an intolerable guy, as much as you seem hell-bent on proving otherwise. You’ve got a hell of a lot more to offer than shit that someone just has to put up with. You shouldn’t be with someone who’s gonna treat you like a goddamn charity case.”

Nines stared at him for a long moment. The chill in the air had seemed to disappear, or at least, Gavin wasn’t noticing it now. His face was still burning. The silence hung heavy between them.

Without another word, Nines turned and popped open the car door.

The conversation was over, then. Gavin opened his own door and scrambled to follow.

The air was definitely colder out here, but away from the stifling tension in the car, he was grateful. Nines’ breath came out in a small puff of cloud. The figure was still bent over the box, cursing under their breath, and he ran a scan as he drew closer. 

**TINA CHEN**  
_Wanted in connection to the distribution of illegally owned and sold android contraband._  
Mild risk of danger.  
Arrest on sight for further questioning. 

He shoved his hands into his pockets as he and Nines came to a stop a few feet behind her. “You, uh- you look like you’re having fun there.”

Tina jolted, and leaped up to face them. She didn’t exactly look the part of a hardened criminal, he had to admit- long dark hair tied carefully back, black jeans and a checkered winter coat, all clean and neat. He could see a bright yellow LED on her temple. The only things that might have given her away were the panicked look on her face and the box of haphazardly arranged android parts clutched to her chest, jammed together like the world’s most illegal game of Tetris.

“Good evening,” Nines greeted, pulling up the sleeves of his own coat. “We’re with the DPD. We were wondering if we’d be able to ask you a few questions.”

Tina’s voice strained with the effort of appearing calm. She shifted her feet on the spot, heels making a crunching sound against the pavement. “Uh- sure. Of course. Is there a problem, uh, officers?”

“That depends on how you answer the questions,” Gavin said. “Mind if we take a look at the box?”

“Sure. Absolutely.”

She lowered the box to the ground, backing away as soon as she let it go as if it was suddenly burning hot. Gavin kneeled over it and lifted the cloth. Dozens more android parts stared back at him, all piled and jumbled together. It took a few seconds of stillness to keep his LED from blazing red. 

“Those are, uh,” she hesitated, “they’re for me and my girlfriend. I got them from the- the Cyberlife store down the street.”

Gavin raised an eyebrow. “The one that closed down three months ago?”

She froze. “…Wow, that, uh- that explains the terrible customer service, huh?”

“We’re looking for something specifically,” Nines cut in. “A thirium pump. Nobody at the, ah- Cyberlife store happened to have one?”

At this, Tina frowned. She dug her hands into her pockets. “Thirium pump? Definitely not. Nobody has thirium pumps. They’re valuable, probably the hardest biocomponent to try to-”

Nines raised an eyebrow.

“-obtain completely legally,” she finished. 

Gavin sighed, covering the components in the box back up. No sign of any pumps, or specialized parts that might belong to a specific product line. It was mostly arms,or the occasional foot.

Nines read the glance he gave him and turned back to Tina with a polite smile. She matched it with a nervous one. 

“You’ve been incredibly helpful, thank you,” he offered, and clasped his hands together behind his back. “If you wouldn’t mind, we’d love to ask you a few more questions down at the station. If that isn’t any problem.”

“Which it shouldn’t be, given the completely legal shit you’re carrying,” Gavin added.

Tina paled, but kept the smile plastered on her face. “…absolutely no problem at all, officers.”

Gavin scooped it up under his arm, watching Nines gesture to the car. They were no closer to finding a suspect with the new information- if thirium pumps were that valuable, there would be far more buzz about them among dealers like her. It ruled out black market motivations, though. It just left them with a gaping hole where the motivation should be. 

“We’ll hand her off to Lazarus and Ada, and we can reconvene at my place to review the files,” Nines murmured as they slipped into their seats. “It looks like we have some reassessing to do.”

Gavin nodded, his own thirium pump stuttering awkwardly again at the invitation. He tried his best to ignore it.

At least one good thing came out from the stake out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm unoriginal and would die for Lazarus Fratello thank you for coming to my ted talk
> 
> this is probably a MESS I am so sorry I haven't posted anything online in literally four years-  
> thank you so much for reading, I hope y'all enjoyed!! I'm so excited about these prompts 
> 
> work title is from Green by Cavetown!


	2. Day 2- Sharing a Bed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Day 2- Sharing a Bed**   
>  **Progression**
> 
> There’s a beautiful sadness in progress.  
> There’s happiness, even if it takes its sweet time to show up. The joy of waking up one ordinary day and realizing that, for the first time in years, you’re starting to learn how to be okay.  
> But- there’s a weight there, somewhere in the back of your mind. A reminder of so many years lost to the darkness. A feeling of something stolen that you can never get back.  
> Maybe progress is learning how to be okay with that, too. 
> 
> Things really have been better ever since he met Nines.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Discussions of trauma and recovery- nothing graphic, but please only read what you're comfortable with x**

Gavin couldn’t sleep again, and for the first time in god knows how long, it wasn’t for lack of trying.

He wanted to blame the cat. Ziti had clawed his way up the middle of the bed and onto the center of his pillow, right where his head usually went. It was the asshole’s favourite place to sleep whenever Gavin let him. Which was most nights, at this point. He had a soft spot for the little gremlin. 

But it wasn’t that. Annoying as it was, he’d grown used to waking up with a cat cutting off his circulation, and it was honestly harder to relax without one snuggled beside him. They’d been his company for longer than he cared to remember, and they’d become a pleasant constant in the general hellscape of existence. 

Gavin was awake because he was thinking, and it was going about as disastrously as imagined.

The clock on his bedside table ticked over to 3:00am, February 3rd. His eyes stung as they drank in the harsh numbers. His entire body was aching from of a weeks’ worth of overtime and four hours’ worth of tossing and turning. Nines had bought him a weighted blanket a few months after he moved in- something about helping with anxiety, which Gavin insisted he didn’t need, but had ended up using religiously- and, paired with sleeping next to a literal android made from military grade metal and plastic, he’d had to adapt to some sore muscles and mysterious bruises. 

He still remembered the first time he’d brought it up, cracking his stiff neck in his chair at work. _Jesus, tin can, couldja take it easy with the moving around? Some of us have bones that we’d rather not have broken in the middle of the night._

 _Gavin,_ he’d replied with an amused smile, _that’s you. I don’t move in stasis unless absolutely necessary._

He frowned. _Bullshit. I feel like I’ve been put through a fucking meat grinder._

 _Again, that’s you. You kick and roll around in your sleep. Sometimes I shift to accommodate, but if anybody should be worried about their physical integrity, it’s me._

He’d snorted in disbelief, but the next night, he’d noticed Nines was right. He’d made it halfway across the bed, while the android had simply lifted his arm to allow him to curl closer. Nines had just smiled into his hair as he grumbled out a sleepy apology and agreed to make breakfast. 

He was still on his side now, though, breathing in the cool air from open window. Nines had insisted they close the shutters to block out street lights, but fragile slivers still broke through. A soft, pale glow here, a frosty blue over there- all arranged in neat little rows. Gavin traced them across the bed covers with his finger. The glow settled on every surface in his room until it was covered in a fine dusting of light. Blue on black. 

_Their_ room, he correct, as something stirred beside him. It wasn’t just his anymore. 

The cat had seemingly had his fun torturing him and stretched, sleepily padding across the pillows until he reached his second victim. Nines rolled over. For a second, Gavin was worried he’d woken him up, but his LED was still shining yellow, and his eyes were still closed. Whatever he did in his weird stasis mode was ticking along. He’d just made enough room for the cat to nestle against his shoulder.

“Traitor,” Gavin mouthed. The cat stared him in the eyes and licked Nines’ nose.

 _You know you don’t have to go into stasis every time I’m asleep, yeah?_ He’d mentioned once as they sat on the couch. It’d been his turn to pick the movie that night, which meant a heist film, much to Nines’ combined chagrin and amusement. _You don’t have to do it for my sake. You live here too._

Nines just shrugged. _Unless you need me awake, I enjoy sleeping next to you. It’s a pleasant routine. I’m grateful whenever I’m able to be a part of your daily life, even if it’s only mundane things._

Gavin hid his flushed face with another mouthful of popcorn. He always said things like that so openly, so honestly, and it always caught him off guard. There was a part of him that still wasn’t used to that kind of sincerity. It was shrinking over time, sure, with Nines’ help, but he was so used to being cynical. Skepticism was built so deeply into him that sometimes he felt like it ran through his veins instead of blood. 

Because the thing was- sometimes he still found himself waiting for the other shoe to drop. Nines was the best thing that had ever happened to him, and that was suspicious, because good things didn’t just happen to Gavin Reed. He was half expecting a giant wave to take his apartment out, or to get mysteriously fired from his job, or for Nines to tell him it was all an elaborate joke to make him realize the consequences of his actions like some sort of Magic School Bus episode from hell. The universe had to balance itself out somehow. 

The truth turned over and over in Gavin’s head as he lay in the dark trying to sleep, tracing the light, hearing his cat’s purrs and feeling the hum of his boyfriend’s processors. 

He was _terrified._

_I can’t go back to being without you._

He’d lost so much time to anger. He’d lost so many years to his mistakes and bad decisions. He’d lost friends, distanced himself from his family, left parts of himself lying on the cold ground next to taped-off corpses. _I used mine to end up on the wrong side of the law for the first half of my life. That drug will take people from you._ If he lost Nines, this time it really would be his fault- it would be because he wasn’t good enough, or he couldn’t recover fast enough, or he couldn’t open up the way he wanted to. And to think Nines had been the one worried about not being whole. 

It was bullshit, and most of the time, he could tell himself that. But the thoughts always clawed their way back in the middle of the night. 

He hadn’t even noticed his breathing had sped up until his lungs began to burn. He realised he hadn’t blinked, either. His eyes were dry and stinging, and couldn’t focus on anything in the dark. He reached up to rub at them, willing his brain to shut up for ten minutes, just ten minutes so that he could get some decent rest. Softly, he groaned, trying not to make it loud enough to disturb the pair next to him. 

They remained quiet, still curled up together. 

Gavin took a deep breath and willed himself to relax. Vaguely, he ran through one of the stupid exercises Nines had spouted off at him last time he’d got bad. Breathe in five seconds, breathe out seven. Breathe in. Breathe out. 

A fresh bout of wind floated through the window. The clock blinked 3:24am.

As he breathed, he lowered himself down into the pillows until he was face-to-face with Nines, the cat splayed contentedly between them. Now that Gavin was out of its way, the light from the window fell across Nines’ face- completely at ease, his eyes were closed, and his LED circled every second like an imitation heartbeat. He’d always looked ethereal in the moonlight. Something about it just fit him.

The LED suddenly blinked blue, and a soft, affectionate voice murmured, slightly muffled, “we’re going to have to have a serious discussion about cat privileges on this bed.”

Gavin huffed out a dry laugh as Nines opened his eyes. He reached out to give the cat a scratch under the chin. “It’s because you’re a goddamn enabler. Look at him.”

“I suppose I am complicit. But that doesn’t mean I have to like it,” he hummed, and met Gavin’s stare. His voice softened the slightest bit. “Trouble sleeping?”

He just shrugged, breaking away from the gaze. “’S just cold in here. I’m fine.”

Nines didn’t buy it. He shifted until he was leaning on his elbow and reached out again, this time to rest his hand on the side of Gavin’s face, fingers threading through his hair. His heart stuttered, the same way it always did when Nines touched him. His hand melted into smooth plastic a second later.

“You only say that you’re fine when you’re not,” Nines pointed out. “Have you slept at all tonight?”

He snorted. “Have you slept ever?”

“Well, no, but-”

“Then I’m doing better than you.”

 _“Gavin,”_ he sighed, and stroked his hair gently. His eyes looked shiny and endless in the blue light. “Talk to me, love.”

There it was again- that terrifying sincerity. Gavin’s chest tightened. 

This wasn’t like every other time, he reminded himself as his breathing began to speed up again. This wasn’t like when Gavin was sabotaging himself from the beginning. He wanted this. He wanted this more than he’d ever wanted anything. Even if he was terrified he’d fuck it all up and lose everything again, Nines was still there. Patient and caring as always. This wasn't like before. He was making progress.

He squeezed his hand tightly and pressed a quick kiss to his knuckle before dropping his head back to the pillow. “Alright, alright, Jesus. I hope you like self-deprecation and irrational thinking, tin can.”

Nines smiled. “I think I can endure it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'all I just blacked out for five hours and woke up with this i don't even know  
> I've never really written a scene like this before so i have no idea if it's any good or not, but thank you for reading anyway! Everything coming out of this art fest is amazing and everyone is so supportive it's the best


	3. Day 3- College AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Day 3- College AU**   
>  **Backsplash**
> 
> Bad luck works best in the rain.

Stupid fucking finals. 

Stupid finals week had to fall on the rainiest, most goddamn miserable week that Detroit had seen in years, when the clouds barely left the sky and the roads were a complete disaster. They just had to. Because that was exactly Gavin’s luck. It was exactly his luck that he’d printed out his term paper, due the next day, at the library, and as soon as he’d stepped outside it was bucketing down. He’d shoved it down into his bag and bolted to the nearest bus shelter, where- according to his phone- he’d be staying for the next twenty minutes, because the wet roads had slowed the public transport schedule to a crawl. He was wet, he was freezing, he was stressed, and he was waiting for a bus after his brother bailed on a ride _yet again_ to stick around and suck up to his mentor for an extra two hours. 

Stupid fucking Elijah. And stupid fucking Detroit public transport. 

The cold had already sunk through his thin army jacket. He tugged it shut and curled in on himself. God, he was _freezing_. The rain was only pouring down harder, splashing back onto his ankles. He tried to pull his bag further under the seat, only to realise there was no further it could go, and settled on hauling it into his lap to hug it to his chest protectively. 

There was a crack of thunder in the distance. It really was just his goddamn luck. 

Splashing and hurried footsteps from the right drew his attention, and he looked up just in time to see another figure darting into the bus stop, panting heavily and clutching a computer bag. As soon as he was under shelter, he fell heavily against the glass wall, closing his eyes. He was absolutely drenched, hair and clothing soaked from head to toe, but there was no mistaking who it was. Tall, lean but athletic, with short dark hair and his signature stupid turtle neck sweater and leather jacket combination- great. Absolutely brilliant. Of course it couldn’t have been someone he got along with, _that_ would have been too much to ask from a universe that enjoyed torturing him. It had to be Niles goddamn Anderson.

He must’ve spent just a bit too long trying to process the horrifying implications of being trapped under a bus shelter with his worst enemy, because Niles opened his eyes. As soon as their stares met, he froze. In the next instant, his entire posture had changed- he shot upright with hands gripping onto his bag tightly. Neither of them moved.  
The rain tumbled down harder.

“Mr Reed,” he greeted stiffly, still backed against the wall. 

“Anderson,” Gavin all but spat. 

They kept staring across the empty space. Niles was still breathing heavily. Gavin wondered how far the guy must’ve run to get there, before he remembered that he didn’t _care_. He clutched his bag a little tighter and turned away with a scowl. 

He and Niles didn’t like each other. That wasn’t exactly the best kept secret on campus. He lived in a student complex a few blocks away, as far as Gavin knew, not that he’d ever actively noticed. They tended to stay as far away from each other as possible, and he preferred it that way. Niles was an engineering major on a full ride scholarship in the robotics department, and Gavin was… a criminology major in crippling student debt.

Niles also happened to be Elijah’s latest ‘protégée’, a word which Gavin knew by now to read as ‘someone smarter than you that I can spend all of my time with at my fuck-off-fancy science lab while I leave you at a bus stop in the pouring rain’. Prick. 

They didn’t get along, and they never would, and that was just _fine_ with him. 

He stared at the rain. 

The bench creaked slightly as Niles perched himself on the very edge of it, as far away from him as physically possible. 

Gavin rolled his eyes. He knew it was petty, since he wouldn’t have wanted him to sit any closer anyway, but pettiness was practically second nature around him after a year and a half. There’d been a time when Chris insisted that Niles was actually just a nice, slightly socially awkward guy, and that he actually wanted to get to know Gavin, but he didn’t buy it. Chris tended to see the good in everyone, and frankly, it was bullshit. Niles had hated him from the start, he was certain. And he was all too eager to reciprocate when he started having to see the condescending asshole every single day. 

Huffing out a cloud of warm air, he slipped his phone from his pockets. He could barely type with how cold his fingers were. 

****

**Meat Sack  
** **Sent 5:09 PM  
** _Code red emergency_

He only had to wait a few seconds for a response. 

****

**Saint Laz  
** **Sent 5:09 PM  
** _did u fall in_

****

**Meat Sack  
** **Sent 5:10 PM  
** _I’m serious Lazzo_

****

**Saint Laz  
** **Sent 5:09 PM  
** _so am i ur too short to tell_

****

**Meat Sack  
** **Sent 5:10 PM  
** _You’re literally shorter than me I hate you_

****

**Sent 5:10 PM  
** _I’m stuck at a bus stop with Anderson and I need out_

****

**Saint Laz  
** **Sent 5:10 PM  
** _whihc one boyish charm or robocop_

****

**Meat Sack  
** **Sent 5:11 PM  
** _Robocop_

****

**Saint Laz  
** **Sent 5:11 PM  
** _that’s an ooft_

****

**Sent 5:09 PM  
** _play dead i heard he can smell ur fear_

Gavin suppressed a groan and shoved his phone back in his pocket, letting his head fall into the glass behind him a second later. There was another crack of thunder. If anything, it seemed like the sky had grown even gloomier as the minutes ticked by. The street lamps had all flicked on, and the tops of the sky scrapers around him stretched into a haze of grey. The sun would be setting by now, which meant it would only be getting darker, and the bus still _wasn’t there_. 

Niles was still sitting with as much distance between them as he could manage. He seemed to be searching through his bag for something, and when he couldn’t find it, he muttered to himself, “shit. _Shit_ …” 

There was a strange moment of cognitive dissonance when Gavin swore he was hearing things. Niles never cursed- it just wasn’t his MO. He was all… uptight. He wore a turtle neck, for fuck’s sake, the guy didn’t seem like the type. 

But there it was again, and Gavin risked a glance to the side. It wasn’t that he hadn’t found what he was looking for, it was the state he’d found it in; a paper that looked like it had once been stapled together was in soaking wet tatters, ink running wildly down the front like it had been freshly printed and then shoved under a running faucet. He flipped through the pages gingerly, tearing off the worst ones and piling them up beside him. 

Gavin couldn’t help but feel a knot in his gut as he watched. As much as he hated the guy, he knew how much that sucked. The notes looked important, too, fully highlighted and annotated. It was probably hours’ worth of work. He cringed inwardly, scrunching up his nose. 

Niles’ hair was drenched, falling down into his face no matter how many times he pushed it back. It wasn’t… a bad face, Gavin could admit. He had sharp features, high cheekbones, absurdly clear skin- that seemed to run in the family- and when he wasn’t looking at everything around him like he’d rather be anywhere else, he almost looked approachable. If it was anybody else, Gavin might’ve called the concentration kind of cute.

“…can I help you, Reed?”

Niles’ eyes had flicked up to catch him staring, and he whipped his head back so fast that he worried he might have pulled something in his neck. “What? No. I wasn’t even- whatever.”

Reaching up massage the muscle slightly, he let out a quiet exhale through his teeth. Knowing he’d been caught staring sent an unpleasant heat straight to his face. He’d just been looking, but Niles might think he was- what? Just glaring at him for the hell of it? Gawking like a school kid at his crush? That was- _so not_ what was happening. He was twenty goddamn years old. Where the _hell_ was the bus?

Distractions. That was how he’d survive this. Sweet Jesus, it was cold. His entire leg was bouncing up and down hurriedly, though it was difficult to tell if that was from the cold or his anxiety. He chalked it up to both. His entire body was shivering, even as he tucked his hands into the folds of his bag to warm them up. A few cars passed by, bringing the gritty slide of tires against water. He watched them passively. He was trying to focus on anything other than the presence on the other side of the seat. 

Time passed in silence, only the rain and the occasional crack of thunder passing between them. Gavin was fully shivering now. The cold stuck to his skin like thousands of tiny hooks of ice snaring him. His teeth were probably chattering. He must’ve looked like complete shit. He sure felt like it. 

There was the sound of tires pulling in close, and a loud engine. A sleek black car was rolling to a stop just outside the bus zone. It looked nice, Gavin had to admit, even covered in mud and rain. Shiny, clearly looked after well. Behind the wheel, he saw a shock of platinum blonde that he recognised as belonging to an AI student named Ada, and in the passenger’s side, Niles’ twin, Connor- who flashed him a polite smile as he flipped him off. 

Niles sighed and began to scoop up his things. Gavin averted his gaze again, instead fixing it to a particularly interesting water droplet on the glass beside his head.  
Suddenly, Niles was clearing his throat, and Jesus, when had he got right in front of him?

He was holding a bundle of white out to him. It looked warm and thick and _heavenly_ , and as he eyed it, Gavin realised that it was his leather jacket. He flicked his eyes between Niles and the coat like a tennis match. 

“You looked cold,” he answered simply, which answered nothing. 

Gavin was silent, still just staring. The horn of the car beeped once behind him. Niles held it out a little further, completely rigid, shoulders tense.

If asked later, Gavin couldn’t describe what made him take the jacket. Maybe his lizard brain took over and demanded warmth above all, or maybe he could blame it on induced shock. He only remembered taking it from Niles numbly, him responding a single, sharp nod, before turning on his heel and sprinting through the rain to the waiting car, holding the pile of ruined papers above the rest of his bag. 

“Wait- what-” Gavin began, barely registering that the car was already pulling away, “-the fuck?”

A moment later, it was gone, and he was left just… holding the jacket. He wasn’t sure whether he’d ever seen Nines without the jacket, period, let alone… whatever had just happened.

This was a conflict. On the one hand, Gavin was extremely aware of the implications of wearing the jacket. It would simultaneously be giving the wrong impression to Niles and whoever the hell else saw him. He didn’t need or want his _charity_. He was _fine_. The last thing he wanted was to make Niles think he was weak; it would just be one more reason for him to be a condescending dick. And if anyone from the college saw him wearing it, they’d either think he’d copied his style- ew- or they’d become friends, and he’d borrowed it. Both options were inconceivable. Absolutely beyond the realm of bad, and into the territory of life ruining. 

On the other hand, he was cold as shit. 

The other hand won. He checked that the car was definitely gone.

As soon as he put it on, he felt a rush of relief flow through him. _Goddamn_ , the thing was warm. No wonder he wore it everywhere. It was surprisingly cozy for something made of leather. It was oddly comforting. Not that Gavin was noticing. He absolutely was not. 

His eyes traced back to the road. Suddenly waiting didn’t seem like that big a deal.

It turns out he didn’t need to wait long. The flash of yellow headlights rounded the corner a few minutes later, spraying a light dusting of water as it came closer. He pulled the jacket tighter around himself as he stood.

He was coming home two hours late, soaking wet, carrying a drenched schoolbag, and wrapped in the still warm favourite jacket of the one person on campus that he hated the most. 

Tina was going to have some thoughts on this one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's currently 1:30am for me and i only just finished this,,,,, y'all i'm sorry for whatever it is


	4. Day 4- Proposal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Day 4- Proposal**   
>  **Paper Clips ******
> 
> **  
> **Gavin's a romantic at heart, he swears.****  
> 

“Gavin?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you remember how you proposed to me?”

Gavin took in a deep breath in the warm wind that blew around them, eyes lazily scanning the Detroit skyline. It had just begun to melt into orange, and the clouds had grown pink around the edges. It was the kind of sunset that felt like a blanket over the world- a warm, soft type of weight. “Kinda insulted you think I wouldn’t, tin can.”

“It’s not that. I just-” Nines hesitated. “I know that human memories are typically less likely to last in detail than mine. I just wanted to check.”

“I mean, yeah, it’s not in 4K high definition or anything, but I remember it.” He looked down at the car hood they sat on; him resting on his elbows, Nines’ legs crossed out in front of him, their hands meeting in the middle. “It was in front of this piece of shit.”

“In the middle of winter, when you were five minutes from hypothermic shock. And I insisted that you get in the car to warm up, but it was right after we closed our biggest case in months, and you told me that if you didn’t say something right then and there, you might never get the courage to.” He looked down with a fond smile, as if replaying the memory in front of him. “I thought the cold had made you delirious. I was about to call an ambulance.”

Gavin snorted. “Yeah, and the ring was a paperclip I found in my pocket like, three minutes earlier. It was a son of a bitch to bend in that cold. I think I was actually shaking too badly to hold it up properly.”

“You were. I had to hold your hands for you to try and put it on. It didn’t fit at all.”

“Ah, yes. Truly my finest moment as a partner. A show of ingenuity and resourcefulness.”

Nines nudged him playfully in the side, and Gavin shot him back a grin. A halo of gold caught the tips of Nines’ hair as they fell over his face, and in the haze of the setting sun, all the little marks and freckles on his skin were visible- some of them were given by Cyberlife, some of them he’d acquired himself. In the honeyed light, he was practically glowing.  
The tips of his ears flushed blue at Gavin’s staring.

The human just shrugged and clicked his tongue. “Y’know, it probably would’ve been the happiest moment of my life if Tina hadn’t almost beat the shit out of me when I got back. Something something, ‘Gavin Reed you unromantic moron’, ‘I can’t believe you’, ‘a fucking paperclip’, something something. To be fair, I hadn’t had a good Chen family lecture in a while. It really felt like coming home.”

Nines laughed lightly, mouth quirking up at the sides. His laughter had become so much more frequent in the past few years. It was probably Gavin’s favourite sound at this point. “Between her and Valerie, it’s a wonder the criminals don’t just turn themselves in.”

He nodded sagely. The colours in the sky had begun to melt together, orange and pink rolling and crashing against the violet and blue, the clouds splintered and hemmed with gold. Everything promised a mild, dry night, even as high up on the lookout as they were. 

Gavin considered reaching for a cigarette, but began to drum his fingers on the warm car metal instead. “What brought this on?”

“I don’t know. Just sitting here, I suppose. It’s been a while since we could sit down and talk like this, without work, or- the rest of life getting in the way. It just reminded me of then.” He looked out across the city. “I have over 45 thousand hours of recorded memory stored in my head, and that night is still one of my favourites.”

“You’re such a sap,” Gavin replied, with a dramatic shake of his head. He slid closer to rest his chin on Nines’ shoulder and clasp his hands around his waist, feeling Nines’ temple rest against his. “If it makes you feel any better, tin can, it was probably the best decision I’ve ever made. Which isn’t really saying much, but the sentiment’s there.”

“You’re an idiot,” he smiled.

Gavin found his hand again and interlaced their fingers. The matching gold wedding bands glinted in the light. They sat together in the still evening air as the river water lit up, and the city began to outshine the setting sun. 

Everything was quiet for a little while, before a quiet murmur of, “Gavin?”

He stirred. “Yeah?”

“I still have that paper clip, by the way.”

“Oh, fuck off.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so,,,,, I have come to realise that timing is not in the top five of my list of useful abilities  
> this isn't actually the piece I was planning to upload for this prompt, but I got a really sudden offer for a paid internship that started literally this week so (on top of my already gold star standard time management) shit has been a little hectic lately  
> regardless, hope you enjoy! thank y'all so much for reading, hopefully I'll be able to finish off the prompts I'm behind on and get back up to date soon :)


	5. Day 5- Western AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Day 5- Western AU**   
>  **Excellent Plans**
> 
> Lazarus wasn't a murderer. Sure, he stole some stuff here and there, and maybe he accidentally blew some things up, and Lord knows he'd made a few bad decisions. But he wasn't a murderer. He just wished everyone else knew that.
> 
> aka Lazzo panics and runs around western town for about two thousand words

When the farmer turned up dead, Lazurus was fairly certain he hadn’t done it. Murder wasn’t exactly his scene and, while there was probably some good money in hastling outer edge farm folk to cut him in in exchange for their lives, it didn’t interest him to threaten anyone’s personal safety apart from his own- and even then, it was usually through sheer bad decision making. He hadn’t even been anywhere near the farm when it happened. He’d been out of town, visiting his girlfriend, who had made a stop nearby on her sales route.

Unfortunately, he knew it wasn’t likely that the Sheriff would believe his story. If not on the basis of his criminal record alone, on the basis that most people in town didn’t even believe he had a girlfriend. 

And so he figured that if he could just make it out of town for a couple of days until the whole thing blew over, he could sneak right back in and continue on with life as normal. No harm done, no questions asked. The victim was a farmer named Carlos Ortiz, who specialised in both livestock and being a bit of an asshole- otherwise known as taking advantage of his underpaid workers. If Lazarus played his cards right, nobody would care about his death for long enough to keep the case open. But he wasn’t going to risk sticking around. He’d been on the proverbial shit list of law enforcement for years for misdemeanors and contraband. He didn’t need a murder accusation in the repertoire as well.

Which was why it was even more unfortunate that he’d chosen dusk to try to sneak away, when the Sheriff and Deputy were making their rounds to question the townsfolk, and happened to be standing between him and his only exit out of town. 

“Fuck, fuck, _fuck_ ,” he cursed, crouching behind a parked caravan. Both of them were only silhouettes in the dimness, outlined by the shallow light spilling out of the stores along the road. They had their backs to him, talking to a squat, greasy man Lazarus vaguely recognised as Todd Williams. The Deputy stood tall in his usual clean waistcoat, hands clasped behind his back and face pinched into polite reservation, while the Sheriff had his hands on his hips, in a broad-brimmed hat and a duster coat covered in dirt. He seemed to have skipped over the ‘polite’ part altogether, and was staring at Williams with a unique mixture of exhaustion and aggravation. The gold star gleamed threateningly on his coat.

“Fuck,” Lazarus repeated, not really sure what else to do.

Williams was fiddling feverishly with the hat in his hands. From his hiding place, Lazarus heard him sneer, “I told you, I don’t know shit. I was at the bank. I just made a deposit. That a fuckin’ crime too, now?”

“That depends on whose money you were depositing,” the Deputy responded mildly. William’s scowl grew even more. 

His plan had been simple. The main road wound straight through the middle of the small settlement of Awakening, and ended neatly at the town gates. He’d follow the road, stop in a few places to grab some supplies, head to the stables next to the entrances, untether a horse, scribble an IOU in the dust, and be off. Easy. His only other option would have been to walk in any direction and risk wandering onto the surrounding private properties, which generally consisted of dust, livestock, and livestock covered in dust. At least following the main road, he could find a merchant’s trail that would take him to another settlement. Or a semi-comfortable barn somewhere.

But no. He couldn’t have nice things, apparently, and now his leg was cramping hiding behind a caravan that smelled like decomposing cattle.

“Look, I don’t know anything about any goddamn farmers,” Williams snarled. “I didn’t even know the guy. Ask anyone at the bank, I was there all morning.”

The two lawmen exchanged glances, and the Sheriff sighed. “Alright. We’ll check with the tellers tomorrow morning, if you don’t mind.”

“Pleasure doing business with you, Mr Williams,” the Deputy added, in a way that made him think he’d never experienced anything with less pleasure in his entire life.

Lazarus shoved himself further against the caravan as the Sheriff turned around to face his partner, almost staring straight in his direction. “Well, that’s another great big load of absolutely fucking nothing.”

“We can continue rounds tomorrow morning,” was the Deputy’s reply. “Most of Ortiz’s workers should have recovered from their shock enough to talk by then. And we’ve almost collected the alibis of everyone with a consistent criminal record. We can stand to take a break.”

“Yeah, if the killer hasn’t already skipped town by then,” he grumbled back. “Let’s just get the rest of this sweep over with. Where to next?”

Lazarus wiped his sweating palms on his shirt. If they decided to come any closer towards him, there was no way they wouldn’t see him. Carefully, trying not to let his feet crunch in the gravel, he crept around to the other side of the caravan and looked down the line of stores, evaluating his options. The doors of the nearest one had been flung open in the cool evening breeze, letting orange light and upbeat music pour through onto the street. 

_Morales-Chen Hotel & Saloon._

It was a long shot, but he had no choice. When he was sure there was no attention on the doors, he darted out from behind the cart and crept up the stairs, hoping against hope that the creaking didn’t make either of them turn around.

It didn’t. His head spun in relief as he slunk through the doors. Once inside, he headed straight towards the bar, ignoring the tables full of patrons chattering in the oil lamp light. He kept his hat low over his eyes.

He only had to come within a foot of the high wooden counter before there was a loud sigh. “Alright, what did you do this time?”

Valerie Morales-Chen, standing behind the bar, had an incredulous look leveled at him already. She was in her usual working clothes, a simple white blouse and long grey skirt, and the sides of her thick dark hair had been pulled back off her face. She was polishing a whiskey glass on her apron. She raised an eyebrow as Lazarus quickly flicked his eyes around and angled his body away from the dining floor. 

“Heyyyyy, Valerie,” he began, with an awkward, impish smile. His hands and voice were shaking. “Long time no see. How’s the wife?”

Her face didn’t change. She set the glass down and reached for another one. 

Valerie and Tina had owned the old wooden hotel and its ground-floor saloon for as long as he could remember. Almost nobody from out of town ever visited for fun, but they made their money from travelling salesmen, merchants, and the sizable collection of bottles they shelved behind the bar. It was one of the few places in town to sit down and relax, and luckily for him, they weren’t picky with who they let in. Business was business in Awakening, and getting along wasn’t a luxury many could afford. He liked to think they had a soft spot for him anyway. 

Well, Valerie did. Tina was best friends with the Sheriff, the Deputy _and_ the Marshal. Tina scared him.

He dropped the act. Leaning across the bar, he braced both hands on its edge. “Okay, look, I’m in shit. Someone offed Carlos Ortiz on his farm outside of town, and I wasn’t here when it happened, and the Sheriff is right outside and he’s doing background checks on everyone with a criminal record, and since I don’t have an alibi I’m gonna be suspect number one, and the second he thinks I’ve done it he’s gonna put me up for being hanged and I really _really_ don’t wanna get hanged-”

“Whoa, slow down, kid,” she said, holding up a hand. She set down the glass she was drying and poured a slosh of dark amber liquid into it. “Slow down. Start again.”

He downed it gratefully when she pushed it across the bar towards him. When he slammed it back down, he accompanied it with a strained, “some asshole murdered another asshole and I’m gonna get done for it.”

Valerie huffed a contemplative sigh. Things like this weren’t unusual around here, as much as they were a pain in the ass. “And you’re sure you didn’t do it?”

“I don’t _murder_ people, Valerie. I make a lot of bad decisions, and sometimes they _happen_ to get things blown up, but I’d never kill anyone. I wasn’t even in town!”

“Let me guess,” she said, holding up air quotes, “you were ‘visiting your girlfriend’?”

He groaned. “Look, I just- I just need to get out of town for a couple days. People die all the time out here, right? I’ll just spend a few nights away and come back when nobody gives a shit anymore.”

“And where the hell are you planning on staying? S’not like there’s any townships in walking distance from here.”

“I’m gonna take a horse down to Evolution.”

She snorted. “You mean you’re gonna steal a horse.”

“I mean-” he hesitated. “Does it really count as stealing if you’re planning on bringing it back? Whatever, not important. I just need some food and something to sleep on. Is there anything you can lend me?”

Valerie looked him over with her arms resting on the bar, scrutinising him. He tried to make his expression as much like a kicked puppy as he could manage. 

She sighed. “You’re just gonna steal something if I don’t, aren’t you?”

He dropped the expression. “Yeah, probably.”

“Christ. Alright, kid, stay there, don’t break anything, don’t get your ass kicked. I’ll be right back.”

She sighed again at the big thumbs-up he flashed her as she made her way out from behind the bar, and she quickly disappeared through a doorway next to a line of booths.   
Lazarus exhaled deeply and slid into one of the bar stools, a little weight off his shoulders. He was still angled away from the other patrons, towards the back wall where the bottles were shelved. Beside the bar, there was a floor stuffed with tables and chairs, and ornamental skulls studded around the ceiling. Heavy footsteps and groaning floorboards creaked above his head. There was a man with an accordion playing leisurely in one of the furthest booths. He knew if he looked at the tables, he’d see a dozen regulars, and he was willing to put money on knowing the name of everybody in the room. Probably not his own money- he didn’t trust himself that much. 

The door eventually creaked back open, and Valerie emerged with a worn leather saddle pack of food and a small bedroll tucked under her arm. “It’ll get you through a tough ride, plus some extra stuff if anything goes wrong. Which it better not, kid, I’m telling you right now.” 

“I swear to god, I’ll give you my firstborn for this,” he said.

She laughed quietly. “Yeah, yeah. Get an actual girlfriend first. Where did you say the lawmen were?”

He slung the bag over his shoulder and clipped the bedroll to it carefully. “Outside. They’re doing a full sweep before sundown.”

“Alright. Here’s what’s going to happen. I’ll go and distract them, you make a break for it down the road. You don’t look back, you don’t talk to anyone, you don’t so much as look at anybody while you’re running, and this never gets back to Tina.” 

“I owe you my actual, literal life, Valerie.”

She sighed with mock self-importance, and flicked her hair over her shoulder. “I know. I expect full reimbursement in both cash and favours. C’mon, kid, let’s go evade the law.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fun fact, i started watching Westworld because of this prompt and haven't stopped since :)  
> thank y'all for reading!!


	6. Day 6- Amnesia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Day 6- Amnesia**   
>  **Retrograde**
> 
> Gavin wakes up in a hospital room with no idea how he got there. It's a rough ride to get him up to speed.
> 
> *Warnings for non-graphic descriptions of brain injury and hospitalization*

_The pain_  
 _You wake to is not yours._  
**-Sylvia Plath**

Shockingly enough, having amnesia was not as thrilling and action-packed as The Bourne Identity made it out to be.

For Gavin, it had meant a lot of being poked and prodded by doctors who all looked alike. It had meant headaches that could rival being run over by a steam train. It had meant being in the same white walled room with the same white painted chairs and the same jar of white plastic flowers. It had meant being confused as shit, tired as hell, and bored out of his mind. 

There were gifts piling up on the table addressed from names he didn’t recognise (who the fuck was Connor and why did he bring him a tiny plush shark?), sent from people that he couldn’t see. Visitors were restricted; something about the risk of _‘overwhelming his condition’_. It was bullshit, but they all just rattled it off like gospel- ‘all’ being the android doctors who treated him, and who sounded just a little too uncanny valley for him. He’d been paranoid about technology at the best of times, and now his entire medical history was in the hands of a bunch of walking Alexas. Totally not terrifying at all in his current situation.

Still, it wasn’t like he could exactly complain about technology in his current state. He felt like shit. Most of his days since he’d woken up had been spent lying in bed, feeling like someone was trying to crush his head like a watermelon. He didn’t have the energy to tell the freaky robo-assholes to stop touching him. He just rolled over, lifted his head, gave them his arm, let them do whatever they needed to, and hoped that they’d be gone soon.

In the first few days, they asked him questions. _What is your name? Where do you live? What is the last thing you remember?_

He’d tried his best to respond through the pain first, but it became tiring after a while. _Gavin, a shitty downtown apartment, the last doctor asking me the same goddamn questions._

He knew he was being an asshole. He couldn’t find the energy to care.

…

Three days later, they let Tina in.

He was so relieved that for a second he thought he might pass out again. She practically sprinted across the room to wrap her arms tightly around him, only pulling away apologetically at the panicked request of the nurse in the corner.

To fill the gap, she grabbed his hand and squeezed it tightly as she perched herself on the side of the bed. He gripped back just as tightly.

A cold chill rolled off the window, and the view was obscured by a light fog. It was definitely coming into winter, then. Gavin hardly noticed. After three days of nothing but drifting in and out of sleep, having doctor after doctor run tests and ask questions and touch him all the time, Tina’s presence was practically a gift from the heavens. 

Once excited greetings were exchanged- at a safer distance for his damaged head- the nurse excused themselves quietly, closing the door behind them. Tina gave them a grateful wave. When she turned back to Gavin, her eyes looked a little glossier than before.

“Don’t you go crying on me, Chen, I’m goddamn emotionally volatile enough as it is,” he muttered, rubbing at his own eyes with the back of his hand. A machine beside him beeped angrily when the motion tugged the chord on his finger.

She huffed out a laugh and smacked him lightly on the shoulder. “Do not tell me not to cry over my best friend’s hospital bed, you heartless bastard.”

Gavin placed a hand dramatically over his chest in mock hurt. “Hey, I’ll have you know four out of five of my vital organs are actually working properly right now, and my heart is one of them, thanks.”

“Four feels optimistic. You’ve been smoking and drinking since you were, like, fifteen.”

“Two out of five of my vital organs are working right now, and my heart is one of them. Whatever. Not the point. Jesus, it’s good to see you, Ti.”

She flashed him a smile, relieved, and a little bit sad. She clambered up further on the bed until they were sitting face to face. “So- amnesia, huh?”

“S’what the doctor said,” he scrunched up his nose and held up his free hand in air quotes, “’focal retrograde amnesia’, apparently. Something about losing most explicit memories from the past three years. I remember the DPD, you, Fowler, Chris, my apartment, my cats, and everything else is kinda just gone. Feel a bit shitted off by that, honestly. I could’ve forgotten my whole fucked up childhood, but no, I can’t even have amnesia right.”

“Jesus. Do they think it’s permanent?”

He shrugged. “Doctor said the damage isn’t too bad, so there’s a high chance it’ll only be temporary, but there’s, uh… a lot missing. Can’t walk for now, either, my head feels like it’s being drilled into. My phone was completely fucked in the accident, so it’s been a lot of me tryna will my memories into existence like one of those magic girl animes you used to be obsessed with.”

“Okay, first of all, the anime thing? Low blow. Second, you, uh- you don’t know about the whole, y’know... political climate?”

Gavin raised an eyebrow. “ _That’s_ your take away from this?”

“No, I mean- look, a lot’s happened,” she tried, shoulders slumping. “Maybe you should take some time to read up on it, I don’t think I could really do it justice. It’s been a weird couple of years, Gav.”

“Yeah, ‘cause everything up to this point was so goddamn normal, with plastic assholes everywhere selling our information to the government or some shit,” he scoffed. “They keep coming in and out of my room all the time. It’s freaky.”

Tina winced. She looked like she wanted to say something, but decided against it, and just readjusted her grip on his hand.

For a few minutes, the only sound was the traffic beeping outside the window, and the whirring of the heating unit. The room was streamlined; painted with sterile whites and greys and compartmentalized so that the machinery slid in and out of the walls as needed. Admittedly, Gavin didn’t go to hospitals much. Not for lack of needing them, he just- preferred not to. They made him uncomfortable. Too many nights talking to injured witnesses and surprise emergency room visits spent coughing up blood.  
But silence with Tina was safe, even here. They’d never needed many words to be able to understand each other. Soft snow began to flit past the window, casting dancing pale shadows across the floor.

“I really am glad that you’re okay,” she murmured, looking down at where their hands met. A pang of guilt jabbed at him. “I mean- we were all scared shitless. You leave for ten minutes, and we get a call that you’ve been in this huge terrible accident, suddenly we don’t know if you’re alive and they’re not letting in visitors. We thought you’d died. Chris has barely eaten, and I don’t think Connor’s been much better, and- Jesus, Gav, Nines has been an absolute mess. He’s gonna be so happy to see you.”

Gavin just blinked at her. “What fuck is a ‘Nines’?”

…

He spent the next day reading the news.

At his request, a nurse had brought him a tablet with internet access, and he’d devoured it. Revolution. Political unrest across America. The recognition of androids as sentient beings with human rights, deviancy as a legitimate form of emotional capacity, equal rights talks. A group of android leaders who looked like a bad funk band. The complete dismantling of Cyberlife as a conglomerate. Radio silence from Elijah Kamski.

Each new story he read made him consider more and more that maybe this was just an elaborate joke. The precinct’s revenge for him being such a notorious asshole. Tina would absolutely hit him with her car as a learning tool.

It was all too fucking weird for him. Hank Anderson got a service medal, for fuck’s sake.

But there it all was, written down and dated. Little things he’d thought were weird before started to make more sense, like the way the android nurses talked to him- friendly, as if they had actually chosen to be there. It was a far cry from the mechanical, detached sentiments he was used to.

He still had a million questions he wanted to talk to Tina about, but she’d left quickly after her last visit and hadn’t been back. She’d gone suddenly pale and jittery after he’d asked about the Nines guy, and couldn’t concentrate for the rest of her stay. The more he thought about it, the more anxious he got, wondering if he’d offended her accidentally, or made light of a touchy subject that he’d forgotten was an issue. About ten minutes after that, she’d given him a quick kiss on the forehead and one last cup of water, and he hadn’t seen her since.

He tossed the tablet onto the sheets beside him and dropped his aching head into the pillows. The winter sun was flimsy and weak through the window. Shifting to lay on his side, he managed to catch a glimpse of snow fluttering softly to the ground. Overthinking his talk with Tina had made guilt gnaw at his stomach. As much as he didn’t want to admit it, he was scared, and he was lonely, and he needed his best friend.

He closed his eyes. Maybe if he tried hard enough, he could sleep another three years away.

…

When Tina came back on the fifth day, she brought Chris. Chris brought coffee.

“I’m making a new religion, and I’m dedicating it entirely to you,” Gavin sighed, as he took the cup in his hands. It was branded from his favourite café. It had grown cold on the trip between there and the hospital, but in that moment, it was the best thing he’d ever tasted.

“I’ll take you not getting into anymore car accidents. It’s good to see you, man,” he replied, clasping an affectionate hand on his shoulder. He gestured to the patient file projected onto the wall above his bedside table. “Mind if I read?”

Gavin made a vague ‘go ahead’ gesture. He’d already practically memorised the thing.

**Gavin M. Reed**  
 **38 years old**  
 **Admitted 01:34, 7th November, 2040**  
Traumatic brain injury with observed damage to frontal lobe, causing suspected focal retrograde amnesia. Impaired explicit memories up to three years prior to injury.  
Patient to remain in ward under observation until further treatment is determined.  
Visitation limited to avoid possible traumatic regression.

Chris gave a low whistle. “You really did a number on yourself, huh?”

“Jesus, you’re telling me. My head feels like a goddamn piñata.”

Chris and Tina began to chat casually as they pulled a few chairs closer to the bed. She seemed to have recovered from their last interaction. He considered asking her what had her so spooked, but decided against it. She seemed fine now; there was no point in dragging it up. She’d even fished out her phone excitedly to show him pictures of the two dogs her and Valerie were thinking of adopting once they moved into their new place.

“This is insane,” he shook his head. “You’re, like… _married_ and shit. Like an actual adult. You’re an actual adult getting a house with your wife. I barely remember you guys meeting.”

She shrugged, sipping at her coffee. “Someone has to be the resident adult of this godforsaken friendship train wreck.”

“Hey,” Chris protested.

“Besides, I’m half convinced she agreed to marry me for the dog perks. She’s already made me agree to let them sleep on the bed. I’m gonna be slowly phased out and replaced by a bull terrier named Trevor.”

“A worthy successor,” Gavin nodded. “If it makes you feel any better, even without the whole amnesia thing, I don’t remember the last time I got a decent night’s sleep with the goddamn nightmare cats in my room.”

“That was self-inflicted. The struggles we face intersect but are not the same.”

“I mean- to be fair, it was Nines who wanted to get another one, so it’s rea- _ow_!” Chris began, cut off with a sharp elbow to the ribs from Tina.

Gavin frowned as Tina shot Chris a warning shake of her head, causing him to look between them with a confused expression, holding his arm in close to protect his ribs. “What? What did I do?”

Gavin narrowed his gaze at her. Did he and Nines hate each other? Was that why they were being weird? Maybe they just thought it would be shitty to bring him up if they didn’t get along. Maybe it was Nines' fault he was in the accident. “Alright, Chen, spill. What aren’t you telling me? Who the hell is Nines?”

Chris turned her way as well, with eyes wide. “You haven’t told him yet?”

“Told me _what_?”

“I didn’t know how,” she confessed quickly. Chris threw his hands into the air. “Oh, come on! How do you even start with something like that?”

“I’m gonna make the amount of people with brain damage in this room an even three for three if someone doesn’t start explaining.”

Chris and Tina exchanged another look, having some silent conversation that he couldn’t begin to understand.

His head thudded heavily back against the pillows. “Oh my _god_. Okay, fuck it. I don’t need you guys acting like this guy is gonna cause the fucking second coming or some shit. Can you either leave it alone, or please, _please_ , just cut the shit and tell me what’s going on?”

Tina opened her mouth, as if to say something, but closed it again after a moment. She wordlessly flicked her finger across her phone and held up a picture of a drooling King Charles cavalier.

…

On the sixth day, he woke up in pain. A storm battered heavily against the window as the nurse gave him a plastic cup of water and some pills. The sympathetic looks they threw him made his head hurt more.

When they were gone, he sobbed into the pillows until his throat burned and the pills carried him back into unconsciousness.

…

Tina had come and gone on the seventh morning, bringing him an old phone she’d stashed and a card from Fowler. The phone ran like shit, but it gave him something other than a hospital TV or a news tablet to stare at. The same information felt so much more interesting on a smaller screen.

The rain was quiet this morning, only a faint patter. The sun had struggled its way out to shine a few rays into the room. The small room looked brighter for it, even only a little. It was a simple comfort.

Gavin was resting back against the pillows with an ice brick against his head, cooling some inflammation just above his left temple. The cold burned, but it beat the hot pulsing of the stitches underneath. It was a fairly calm day after Tina left; just a volunteer, a kid named Adam, bringing him meals and changing out the ice every so often. He knew he could try to log into his social media- there was no way he’d remembered to change the passwords in three years- but in all honesty, he was scared. He was still trying to process the fact that apparently machines were alive, he didn’t need to have the weight of his own terrible contributions to the internet on his conscience as well.

The door was propped open a little bit to let in some fresh air that wouldn’t freeze him to death. Occasionally, someone would pass and smile at him, which he usually returned with an awkward wave, or didn’t acknowledge at all.

It wasn’t until the door was pushed open all the way that Gavin actually looked up from his phone fully, ready to tell Adam that the ice was still fine, and the kid could relax.

It… certainly wasn’t Adam.

The man in the doorway was tall, stiff-backed, and dressed entirely in black. He had neatly done hair and a turtleneck crawling up his throat, and he stood with one hand braced on the doorway and the other clutching what looked like a white biker jacket, as if he was ready to make a break for it as soon as he needed to. Gavin’s eyes found a bright LED shining on the side of his head. It was the first android he’d seen out of medical gear- or in anything close to regular clothes.

Gavin blinked at him, and after a few moments of strained silence said, “Uh. Hi.”

The man shifted on the spot slightly, his LED blaring between yellow and red. Gavin’s stomach churned seeing it that colour, but for the life of him, he couldn’t tell why.  
The two stared awkwardly at each other. Gavin felt himself growing agitated under the man’s gaze. It was so… _intense_ , like he was trying to stare right through his skin and into his brain. He cleared his throat and tried again. “Can I, uh… help you?”

The man stood up a bit straighter, eyes widening slightly. Had all androids become this weird since they became deviant? He looked like he was about to have an anxiety attack.  
“I was just wondering if you needed anything,” he managed. “Water, or… anything.”

Something in his voice made Gavin’s chest tighten. Despite the polite tone, and the helpful words, it was so undeniably sad. His expression was carefully neutral, but he could see a slight downturn to the set of his mouth, and his eyes were glossed over.

Gavin wondered, vaguely, if his eyes were made of the same shit his blood was, because they were the most vibrant shade of blue he’d ever seen.

“I, uh- water. Water would be great,” he said, if only to have an excuse to break the eye contact that felt like it was burning his skin. “Just… water.”

With a quick nod, the man turned on his heel, and Gavin heard his footsteps retreating away. Once he was out of earshot, he pressed a hand straight to the side of his chest.

His heart was going like a goddamn _jackhammer_.

Something about that guy, from the second he was in view, had set every single one of Gavin’s nerves on fire. He didn’t even know who the fuck it was. Maybe he should call a nurse.

He didn’t.

When he came back, the man hesitated briefly in the doorway- _like a fuckin vampire needing to be invited in_ , Gavin thought- before pushing through and placing the cup on the bedside table, next to his still full glass from breakfast.

“Thanks,” he said, giving a single nod. The man stepped back and began to retreat to the door, and Gavin quickly cut in, “hey, uh- wait a second. This is gonna sound really fucking dumb, but- do I, uh- do I know you?”

He paused, turning back on his heel to look at Gavin. A little flash of familiarity hit his chest suddenly, like an electric shock, but- the source of it was still out of reach. It was still just too far away.

“You shouldn’t leave the ice pack there for too long at a time,” was all the man said. “The chemical contact with your eyelids may cause localized frostbite.”  
With that, he’d walked swiftly back out the door, leaving Gavin with two glasses of water and no idea what the fuck had just happened.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay tbh i absolutely think that Tina and Chris would tell him what was going on but,,,,,, drama??  
> this one was a doozy to write, sorry if it turned out a little wonky! Thanks for reading :)


	7. Day 7- Time Travel/Loop

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Day 7- Time Travel/Loop**  
>  **Le rêve**  
>    
> It's been two months since Detective Gavin Reed and the RK900 were partnered together. It’s safe to say the two don’t exactly get along. Gavin is antagonistic and brash, RK is reserved and awkward. Oil and water. 
> 
> So what the hell are these weird dreams Gavin's been having, and why does RK900 seem to feature in every single one of them?
> 
> Excerpt from a longer fic I might one day finish, set pre-Detroit Awakening :)

_“Gavin.”_

_RK900’s hand was warm._

_That was the first thing he noticed. His hand was warm, and the whirring of his motors was quiet. Gavin lay against his back, with his head resting on his shoulder, and their hands clasped together tightly. They were sitting in his bed, him half under the covers and RK900 propped carefully on the edge. He could hear the steady beat of his thirium pump where his head met his back. It was a slow, precise rhythm. Perfectly paced._

_His own breathing was laboured, and he took a few shaky attempts to calm it down. RK900’s fingers brushed against his lightly. He leaned down to rest his temple on Gavin’s head. Wherever they touched, tiny sparks ran across his skin._

_“If you tell anybody about this, I’ll have you scrapped for parts,” he muttered, breathlessly._

_He felt RK900 smile. “Empty promises.”_

_His breathing began to slow as they sat, hands laced together. He felt… safe. Like he wasn’t alone. RK900 was right there, grounding him. A part of him still felt embarrassed by the whole thing- letting himself be seen like this- but for now, he was content with locking that little part away in the back of his heart, and letting the rest be overtaken by the android beside him._

_He was tired, and he was stressed, but RK900 was warm and real, and maybe he’d be okay for the night._

…

His alarm clock had just ticked over to 8:30 on a Tuesday morning when Gavin decided that the sun had absolutely _no business_ being that bright, and could kindly fuck off, please and thank you.

He’d come to this conclusion somewhere between waking up from a weird ass dream with a migraine that felt like his head was being split in two, and fifth time his phone vibrated with a missed message. 

“God fucking dammit,” he groaned, and screwed his eyes shut. With one more buzz, his phone tipped itself off the nightstand and landed on the floor with a thump.

As if the fact he hadn’t slept properly in three days wasn’t enough, he was already late for work, and the apartment was _freezing_. His head pounded as he sat up in bed, as if his brain was sloshing from one side to the other.

He stretched his back out for a moment, trying to wake himself up. The dream kept coming back to him in small chunks, and each bit he remembered just made him more and more uncomfortable. It just- wasn't right. For a start, the RK900 didn't call him Gavin. Hardly anybody called him Gavin. Tina, Chris, maybe Fowler if he was pissed off enough. His brother if he ever bothered to fucking call. Definitely not any of the detective androids, and _definitely_ not his partner. 

And that wasn’t even _touching_ the whole ‘sharing a bed’ thing. He could barely wrap his head around that scorching mess of subconscious bullshit. 

Groggily, he stumbled around to pull on whatever clothes smelled the least offensive- he sure as shit didn’t have time to shower- and made peace with the knowledge that breakfast would be breakroom coffee again. He rubbed his eyes against the glare of the sun through the living room window as he ventured out to find his keys, only pausing a second to glance down at the phone he’d grabbed. 

Two missed calls. Five missed text messages. All marked urgent. All from his work partner.

Gavin dismissed the notifications with a roll of his eyes, shoved his phone into his bag, and slammed the apartment door shut behind him.

…

The city was defrosting from another cold night, and everything around the DPD was covered in a milky haze. The fog wavered and danced in the morning sun. The pale rays ran along the ground as he pulled into the parking lot and pushed into the building, silently thanking god for the blast of warm air from the shitty central heaters. The bullpen was already busy; he could see Fowler was hunched over his desk, pained expression plastered on his face, and most of the other desks were occupied. Connor and Hank were both there, chattering quietly to each other, passing files across the desks. When he noticed him, Connor threw him an enthusiastic wave, which he returned with a middle finger from both hands. 

As much as he’d tried to crush them underneath extremely loud music on the drive over, thoughts of what he’d seen last night kept creeping into the back of his mind. Sure, he’d had dreams that kept coming back to bite him, but all things considered, he’d become pretty damn good at repressing things. Which made it even more of a pain in the ass that he couldn’t stop thinking about it. 

It had felt so real, and that was as bizarre as it was stressful. He was rapidly discovering it was a lot harder to ignore something that felt like a memory than it was to drink away a dream. 

The universe just couldn’t let him have _one_ good night’s sleep. Just _one_. If it wasn’t trauma, it was weird intimate tension between him and the world’s most annoying plastic detective. Part of him thought he would have just preferred the trauma. 

As he rounded to his own desk and dropped his bag onto his chair, he rubbed a tired hand across his face. He didn’t need to look at the desk opposite his to know it was already occupied. It felt like it was never empty. 

“Morning, plastic ass,” he deadpanned, muffling a yawn. 

“Good morning, Detective Reed,” the RK900 greeted, in a way Gavin figured was probably meant to be pleasant, but just came off stilted and awkward. “Did you sleep well?”  
_Abso-fucking-lutely not_. “Yeah, just fine.”

The RK900 nodded. Without anything else to add, Gavin just slumped down into his desk. The silence stretched between them.

It was broken a moment later as a weight suddenly leaned on the back of his chair, canting it sideways. Tina gestured emphatically to the android across the desk, demanding, “And what sort of time do you call this? Your mother and I have been worried sick!”

“Good morning to you too, Chen,” he said, trying to shift himself back upright.

She snorted. “ _Morning_ would be stretching it. My shift is practically over. RK here is practically dust. Look at him, he’s rusting.” 

Gavin spared a single glance at the RK900 sitting rigid in his chair. His posture was perfect, his white Cyberlife jacket was pressed and clean. His hair was neat, his face was clear, and his LED was blinking a crystalline blue. The only thing different about him to every other morning Gavin came into the office was that he looked a little bewildered in being part of a sudden joke he hadn’t been briefed on, but even that was hidden behind hands clasped together on the desk and a polite smile. 

He just sighed, clicking his computer on. “Yeah, I’m sure he’s fucking devastated.”

“Oh my god, at least play in the improv space with me for a while. You’re no fun. So, what’s on the agenda for today?”

The RK900’s LED spun bright yellow. Checking their virtual to-do list, he guessed. “Detective Reed and I have to finish some paperwork to finish in order to officially close our last case, and then there’s a few witness reports we need to go over before our scheduled interrogation this afternoon.”

“Shit, that’s today?” Gavin asked, a churn of panic hit his stomach. He’d meant to go over those files days ago. He hadn’t prepped anything. 

The RK900 gave an almost indeterminable eye roll. “Yes. You’d have known that if you’d picked up your phone this morning.”

He scowled. He was gonna have words with whoever gave the goddamn robot an attitude. 

At least he knew it had definitely been a dream. The RK900 he’d seen in his sleep couldn’t be further from the android in front of him. Not that it mattered- Gavin had already made up his mind to never think about it again. 

Tina just snorted out a laugh, straightening and giving him a sympathetic pat on the back. Turning to leave, she held up her coffee cup in a mock salute. “Good luck, Gav. Don’t punch any suspects.”

With that, she was gone. 

He rubbed at his tired eyes as his computer finally flickered to life. He punched in his credentials and waited for the system to fire up, fingers beginning to drum on the table. The documents for this interrogation needed to load _yesterday_. Their number one suspect was bringing in his lawyer that afternoon, and if they didn’t find something concrete on this guy, they’d lose the right to keep him in. He’d tried going over the files last night, but- well, his streak of sleepless nights was hitting three. His options had been to go to bed or pass out. He’d expected bad dreams, because he always did, but what he’d got was a new ballpark. 

_Stop it. We’re not thinking about that. Stop it._

“Detective,” RK900 began hesitantly, drawing him out of his thoughts. Gavin sighed without even looking up, knowing exactly what that tone of voice meant. “You’re an hour late.”  
He continued tapping his fingers. “Really, tin can? Hadn’t noticed.”

“I recognise that a Tuesday morning shift might not exactly be the pinnacle of entertainment, but it is still your job. I would appreciate it if you could endeavour to be on time for our next shift. Or, at the very least, respond to my messages so I know that you’re still alive. Unless, of course, there’s a good reason for your absence, in which case I would take it directly to Captain Fowler-”

“Oh, Jesus Christ,” he cut in. He finally looked away from his computer to face RK900, whose face was schooled into careful impassivity. “Look, I just had a shit night’s sleep, alright? Sue me. Sorry I couldn’t be in to listen to you and Tina exchange oatmeal recipes or whatever.”

“I don’t need to e-“

“-eat, yeah, I know. It was a- fuck, never mind. I’m here now, let’s just get on with it.”

The RK900’s LED spun yellow again, but he didn’t argue. He just passed a file across the table for him to sign, and once he had, they fell back into silence. 

Gavin wasn’t going to think about the dream. There was _no way_ Gavin was going to think about the dream. 

…

_This time, he was standing._

_There were no bed covers or darkened rooms; just the two of them, standing in the conference room of the DPD. RK900 was in the doorway, he was by the table._

_He smiled as he approached slowly. “Distracting yourself with work at 2 am. Now I know you missed me.”_

_“You undead asshole,” he snapped suddenly, a relief he had no name for flooding through his veins so fast he thought he was going to pass out. RK900 just smiled wider. “How- how did you wake up?”_

_“I heard you,” he responded. He was stepping closer, close enough that Gavin could see the strands of hair that fell over his eyes and smell the sharp, clean scent of a hospital. His eyes were fixed entirely on him. “Your voice broke through.”_

_“God damn it, you- y-you heard everything I said?”_

_“Every word.” They were almost close enough to touch. “‘A force you can’t live without’?_

_“I…” Gavin’s hands were trembling. His head swirled trying to comprehend the cacophony of feelings mixing together all at once. Relief, elation, embarrassment, fear, happiness- pure, unfiltered happiness, because RK900 was here, and he was safe, and it felt like everything he’d ever wanted._

_“…hate you,” was all that came out._

_Gavin could see the tiny flecks of silver in his bright eyes as he murmured, “You love me.”_

_The moment felt so fragile that a breath could break it. They stood a foot apart, looking at room full of work and only seeing each other. They were the only things that existed there. They were in the middle of unlimited time and unlimited space, falling further and further into each other with every passing second. Gavin didn’t know what would happen when they crashed together. He didn’t care._

_He reached out slowly and took his hand in his own, feeling smooth white plastic under his fingertips. RK900’s hand brushed against the side of his face._  
_They fell into each other, their lips met, and they crashed._

…

Gavin woke in a cold sweat. 

He sat up hurriedly and whipped his head around. He was still in bed, the clock on his bedside table blinked a sharp green. 3:39 AM, February 7th, 2039. The blinds were drawn tightly shut, everything was quiet, and he was alone.

He pulled off the covers and slung his legs over the edge of the bed, giving himself a moment to breathe. His skin prickled where he felt phantom fingers against his own.

“What... the _fuck_ ,” he panted into the darkness. The darkness didn’t answer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If any of y'all wanna read way better written time travel shenanigans, I highly, highly recommend 'I will become yours and you will become mine' by spiderwebsitar :)  
> Thanks for reading y'all!


	8. Day 8- Dancing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Day 8- Dancing**   
>  **She**
> 
> Tina considers herself extremely lucky to come home at the end of an exhausting day at work to a beautiful, loving wife. She considers herself extremely unlucky that said wife has so much more energy than her.

Coming home to Valerie Morales-Chen was like coming home to a personified hurricane. She was chaotic, beautiful and strong-willed, and if she went into the kitchen when you weren’t looking, you were never quite sure what you were likely to find in there afterwards. 

By the time Tina had struggled her way through the door and dropped her work bag, the smell of cooking chicken had crept out to meet her. The apartment was dim; the living room was lit by a lamp in the corner and a few candles on the coffee table, turning everything a warm, sleepy orange. She took a moment to tug her hair out of its ponytail and rub at her stiff neck. 

“Hey, it’s my third favourite police officer,” Valerie teased, as she emerged into the kitchen. The light in here was low, too, just a single cosy spotlight over the stove. Val was standing under it, fussing with a sizzling fry pan. The radio was playing a slow, quiet instrumental track in the corner. 

“Third?” Tina mumbled back, wrapping her arms around her waist from behind and slumping her head onto her shoulder.

Val pressed a quick kiss to her temple. “Second on a good day.”

Tina just accepted it with a tired groan, earning herself a laugh. She didn’t know how Val still managed to be so energetic and chirpy after a full day of teaching four year olds, but she couldn’t say she really had much experience. The closest she had to dealing with children was Gavin in a mood.

“Tough shift?” she asked, still working away at the food.

“I think the only way I can describe it is like all the worst parts of a normal day, but turned up to eleven,” she responded. “Captain was even more touchy than usual, ‘cause Connor and Hank’s NYPD contract got extended another month, and nobody thought about who was gonna do all of Chris’ paperwork once he got promoted, so it’s all on me.”  
Val gave a sympathetic hum into her hair. “Sounds like the typical flawless DPD organisation.”

She only nodded in reply, and closed her eyes. She could definitely fall asleep like this, still nestled against her wife as she cooked. Unfortunately, Val had other plans.  
“Go and change,” she said, nudging her off with her elbow, “you smell like stale coffee and middle-aged man sweat.”

Tina groaned again, but unhooked herself from her waist and stumbled off to find some fresh clothes. She ditched her uniform in a nearby wash basket as she went.  
When she’d returned, sweatpants and t-shirt proving to be a much comfier combination, Val had swapped out the fry pan for a large pot of boiling water that she was flicking salt into. Two plates half-piled with warm chicken and buttered bread sat a little way away. Tina could have cried with how good it smelled.

This was one of her favourite nights, when one of them had a late night and the other already had things ready when they got home. They’d just sit on the kitchen floor or on the couch as they ate and talked, with the radio playing softly in the background. It helped her feel a little more human after playing adult supervision to her coworkers for ten hours.  
The two chatted softly as she helped to clear dishes away and Val began piling vegetables into the pot, exchanging stories from their days. Tina had to cover for Robert when he was late with his report and Fowler was on the warpath, and Val spent half an hour trying to convince a child that eating crayons wasn’t good for her, despite her insistence that it would give her superpowers. Neither of them envied the other.

“-and then she ate it anyway,” she sighed, poking at a potato chunk with a knife. “I turn around for five seconds, and boom. It’s gone. I can’t wait to get an angry phone call about rainbow vomit.”

“About to eat here,” Tina said, wrinkling her nose and gesturing to the plates. “Sounds like a fun day. Remind me why you’re in childcare, again?”

“The incredible paycheck and unbelievable benefits,” she deadpanned back. 

The song on the radio switched to something slow and smooth as Val stepped away from the pot. Quiet guitar strums filled the air. Tina swayed a little as she dried off a few spoons from the sink. 

She turned around to see Valerie standing with a hand outstretched. 

“Dance with me,” she said.

Tina raised an eyebrow. She kept drying the spoons.

“C’mon, I love this song, it’s _cute_. Are you really gonna leave me hanging on our anniversary-eve?”

“That’s not a thing.”

“It’s totally a thing. Our anniversary is tomorrow, therefore today is our anniversary-eve, therefore you have to be nice to me. Dance with me, coward.”

Tina didn’t dignify it with a response, just turned her attention back to the dishes with a fond smile.

It was a mistake, because Valerie suddenly lunged forward and jabbed her in the side, causing her to squeak. She took the chance to wrap her arms around her, swaying her from side to side. “Dance with meeeeee. Tina. Tina. Tina. Dance with me. Tina. Dance. Tina dance with me."

"You're a nightmare," she laughed, trying to swat her away, “this is an unfair fight!”

“It’s called _strategy_ ,” Val argued. “I’m a tactical genius.”

She poked her again, and Tina had to hold back another squeal at the ticklish feeling. She bit the inside of her cheek to keep from bursting out with laughter. “Okay, okay, fine, I surrender, I surrender, you jerk.”

Val flashed her a wide grin and spun her around, gently interlacing their fingers with one hand and finding her waist with the other. Tina suppressed a matching one as she rolled her eyes dramatically.

The song was slow and velvety, and the two of them moved in a careful circle around the kitchen. The pot on the stove kept bubbling away. At some point, Val tried to spin her- she spun the wrong way too fast, making them both stumble. They tried again through a fit of giggles.

They kept dancing even as the song faded out and another one began. They hardly noticed the change. Tina unthreaded their hands in favour or wrapping her arms around Val’s shoulders, and she returned it by placing her own on her waist. They just swayed softly with the music, studying each other. The entire kitchen was hazy and warm.

“Aren’t you glad I’m persistent?” Val asked, with a smug half-smile.

“Eh, I’m still considering it,” she said, with mock deliberation. Val huffed a laugh and pressed a kiss to her lips before she could say anything else.

Valerie Morales-Chen was a chaotic whirlwind of a person, and Tina wouldn’t have wanted it any other way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sometimes i forget i'm queer and then i remember the dream life that is Tina and Valerie and it all comes flooding back
> 
> i'm sorry uploads have been such a mess!! hopefully i'll be uploading two at a time until i'm caught up, and then probably every two days. thank you so much for reading this far :)


	9. Day 9- Mermaid AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Day 9- Mermaid AU**   
>  **Thalassophile**
> 
> _Here at the MarineLife experimental facility, our work is dedicated entirely to furthering the study of oceanic creatures. To speak to one of our friendly staff members, press one. To inquire about internships and placement opportunities, press two. To report a mermaid sighting, press three, and please remember to refrain from spreading information about their location until one of our researchers has had an opportunity to follow it up._

This late, the only sound that echoed through the empty corridors of the facility was a single pair of footsteps.

Ada pulled her lab coat tighter around her against the cold. The heating had been switched off hours ago, along with most of the lights. The door she’d stopped at was a heavy, bulking metal thing, jutting out slightly from the wall like the entrance of a cold storage room. She paused just long enough to press a combination into the keypad beside the door and pulled it open.

The observation rooms all looked the same for the marine subject, with some exceptions. This one was long and thin, with a domed roof and four tanks of wide, spotless glass lining each side. The glass panes were almost double her height- they always had to be with the larger species. Apart from her, it was empty. The other researchers and maintenance crews had all gone home for the night, leaving her to do the last minute checks that meant she could lock this department down until the morning.

She clicked the end of her pen against her clipboard, adjusted her coat, and began.

The tanks all seemed to be in their proper working order. Each was designed like a seascape, condensed into an area the size of a small room; a layer of sand and rocks lined the bottom, with a forest of seaweed growing from front to back. Tiny schools of fish darted in and out. The plants all seemed to be growing and healthy, and there was thin sea foam frothing across the surface, churned up by the aeration filters in the wall. The tanks didn’t have any lights- many of the deep sea mermaids had been distressed by the florescence, it seemed to burn their eyes in the same way looking into the sun would- and so a colourant mixture had been added to the chemical mix pumped into the tanks, making the water luminescent. It bathed the entire room in a blue gleam.

Coming to a stop at the first tank, Ada began her maintenance checks. She rapped a knuckle against the glass. It was sturdy, no signs of weaknesses or cracks. The control panel listed all the correct chemical codes for the automatic dispenser, and the oxygen levels were in the green.

When a patch of kelp swayed to the side, she could see one of the mermaid couplings, TN1 and VL3, sleeping on a rock together. Their breathing was fine, their fins glinted brightly, there were no signs of distress or discomfort. Everything seemed normal.

She ticked off the last of the list as she continued on, footsteps echoing through the silence. Everything was set for the night. She came to a stop at the single door at the end of the chamber, where a small ring light shone red in the centre like a peephole. To the side, there was another control panel- smaller, this time, with just a keypad and a blinking _MarineLife_ logo. She keyed in her passcode and stepped back, waiting until the light flickered blue. The lock clicked, and the door decompressed with a dull thud.

The Direct Observation Chamber was designed for exactly what it said on the tin. Primarily, it was where injured or particularly interesting specimens were kept for specialised care. There was a single tank, whose glass made up the entire right wall, and a bench. The sharp smell of salt water hit her nose as soon as she pushed the door open. She always knew it was coming, but she was never prepared.

Immediately, her eyes went to two things. The first was the solitary screen on the wall displaying the specs of the tank, as if someone had recently been checking them. It blinked and flashed at her. The second was her research partner, sitting alone on the bench, staring intently at the tank with his chin in his hands.

Nines looked like he hadn’t slept in weeks. His usually neat hair was dishevelled and falling into his eyes, and his glasses continuously slipped down his nose. He pushed them back up tiredly. He didn’t move when she walked in, letting the door swing shut with a thunk behind her.

“For a professional scientist specialising in the care and preservation of endangered species,” she said by way of greeting, coming to a stop beside the bench, “you certainly lack very basic survival instincts.”

Nines pushed his glasses up. “I have no idea what you mean.”

Her answer was a vague gesture to all of him, from his messy hair to the crumpled lab coat he’d hastily pulled over an also crumpled turtleneck. He looked down at himself once and accepted it with a sigh.

“Is everything alright, Nines? Your shift ended hours ago. I thought you would have been home by now.”

He shook his head. “I have to stay to observe him. I think there’s something I’m not seeing.”

She looked up at the tank to the ‘him’ he was referring to. In the jungle of gently swaying kelp there was a solitary mermaid specimen, floating on his back. He was a younger one, having the upper half of a man in his mid-thirties. He was athletic, with sharp features, dark brown curls that floated around his face lazily, and pale skin undercut with the slightest shade of green. Where his torso ended, the skin began to flatten and harden into rows of scales that glinted a brilliant emerald green and ended in long, feathery fins, gliding gently through the water. He was casually reclining as he floated along, arms tucked behind his head. Like Nines, he hadn’t reacted when she’d walked in, but she always suspected it was simply because he didn’t like her very much.

The GV1, a feathertailed deep sea mermaid, or- as Ada liked to call him- Nines’ project. He hated it when she did, but it was the truth. He was the only subject under Nines’ direct care, which made sense, since looking after him seemed to be a full-time job in and of itself. He was easily the most expressive specimen they had. He was temperamental and aggressive, refused to eat or respond when it suited him, and seemed to amuse himself with aggravating the handlers or tampering with the internal systems of his tank. Most of his other handlers had ended up asking for a transfer to a more docile charge, but Nines had managed to stick out three months.

Ada was proud of him, of course, but the position didn’t come without issues. The GV1 was seen as the most important creature in the entire facility. The pressures and stresses of trying to observe, look after, research and document everything he did at all hours of the day was exhausting. She’d seen more of Nines in this room than she’s seen him out of his lately. His eyes were red-rimmed and puffy, his usual clean and polished appearance wearing away. It worried her, but she knew the importance of the work. She’d be the last person to tell him how to do his job.

She took a seat next to him on the bench, placed the clipboard down and asked, “what do you mean?”

“I can’t tell what it is, but something seems wrong with him. He’s been off for days. He’s barely slept, he refuses to eat, he won’t even let anybody else near the tank. At first I thought maybe I’d missed cleaning some dead plant matter and it had given him a fungal infection, but there haven’t been any signs of growths. He doesn’t look like he’s in pain, either, I can usually tell. Something is just… wrong.”

“Perhaps he’s sick,” she suggested. “A contagion would be likely to suppress his appetite and make him hostile. Well- more hostile than usual.”

“That’s what I thought, but he won’t let any of the medical staff close enough to examine him. If it’s some kind of species-specific disease we haven’t seen yet, I’m not willing to risk trying to wait it out. We don’t know its complications. And I don’t want to put him under anaesthetics, either, in case there’s a reaction.”

Ada furrowed her eyebrows. “That’s all well and good, but I doubt you’ll be able to do much for him if you’ve gone into sleep deprivation induced catatonia. You should get some sleep, Nines. I’m sure Markus will be happy to give you some suggestions tomorrow.”

“It’s not just that,” he added, running a hand through his hair. “This is going to sound insane, but- in the past three weeks, there’s been this kind of… _pulse_ going through the water. Whenever I run the scanner, it says there’s a dangerous amount of electricity in the tank. I thought it was faulty, so I got Connor to look at it, but everything was working fine. So I started noting down when they’ve been happening.”

With this, he pushed off from his seat and crossed to the screen on the wall. Ada unfolded herself to follow.

“It’s every single time I try to interact with him,” he explained, tapping the menu buttons of the screen. New charts popped up, several real-time scanners of the state of the water, used to check the safety of empty tanks. He pointed at some sharp spikes in the chart marked _electrical charge_. “10 am, start of daily observations. 1 pm, water sample taken for PH testing. 5 pm, feeding. Every single time he notices I’m there, the scanner picks up a new electrical impulse.”

“That’s impossible,” Ada frowned, drumming her fingers against her arm as she peered at it. “Anything in the tank would be dead. Besides, most specimens aren’t capable of comprehending their human surroundings beyond basic survival instinct. They’re just like any other type of marine life.”

“It should be impossible, but it’s happening anyway. I don’t know how. I wish I did,” he said. After a moment of consideration, he strode past her to stand in front of the tank, directly opposite the mermaid. “Watch this.”

GV1 still had his eyes closed, but Ada could tell he was awake; his tail occasionally twitched to push himself along, sending a current that knocked gently against the kelp. Nines adjusted his coat, as if preparing for an important interview, before lifting the back of his hand and knocking three times against the glass of the tank.

The GV1 cracked one eye open, and his gaze immediately came to rest on Nines.

_Ping._

Ada’s head snapped back to the screen. The electrical scanner, which had been measuring at zero, suddenly spiked to ten, then thirty, then one hundred volts. It kept climbing.

“It’s like he’s trying to get my attention,” Nines said, voice quieter now. “I know it sounds ridiculous, but- sometimes it feels like he’s trying to communicate. Actually, _really_ communicate, not just coexist.”

Ada didn’t know what to say. That amount of electricity should have fried anything in the tank alive, but- there he was, still just floating, still just staring at Nines with what looked like vague interest. There shouldn’t have even been any interest at all.

“You have to take it to Kamski,” she said finally. “There has to be a report on this.”

“No. They can’t know yet, not until I’m certain. If they think this is something of serious interest, they’ll assign him to somebody higher up. I just need more time. Gavin doesn’t respond well to oth-“

“I’m sorry, ‘Gavin’?” She cut in, raising her eyebrows at him incredulously. He froze on the spot. “Did you- _name_ him?”

Nines’ face flushed. “I- look, it’s just easier to say. It wasn’t- it doesn’t matter. I need to keep observing him for a few more days. Reporting to anyone else is only going to bring him more attention, which will cause him more stress, which could make him worse.”

“Keeping this a secret could get you fired.”

“Is that worth losing one of the creatures we’re supposed to be caring for?”

“Sometimes you care for them too much for your own good, Nines.”

He just sighed and rubbed a hand across his face. Ada understood where he was coming from. It was difficult to work with living creatures; you formed attachments, and that made it hard to be objective. But there was a line that had to be drawn. It sounded harsh, but they could find more specimens. The researchers came first.  
She exhaled deeply, willing herself to deflate a bit. She couldn’t do anything, really, once he’d made up his mind- Nines was a brilliant researcher, but he was stubborn. All she could do was be there for him.

“Maybe I’ll have to force you to get a cat so you have an excuse to go home,” she suggested, moving to stand beside him and placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. “You’d finally have a roommate that was happy with you coming home smelling like fish.”

He cracked a tired smile, and looked back at GV1- Gavin, apparently. Seeing he wasn’t getting any more attention, he’d rolled over onto his back again, and was lying with his arms dangling down into the empty water, bubbles forming where his fingers ran through it. “I appreciate the concern, but I’ll be alright. I just wish I knew how to figure this out.”

Ada nodded. Nines made no move to step back from the tank, and she took that to mean he was staying. She took another glance at the mermaid, blissfully unaware of everything else but the smooth current of the water, and scooped up her clipboard.

“Try and get some sleep, Nines,” she called as she crossed back to the door. “The department can’t take another extreme medical expense.”

He gave her one last smile and a soft goodnight before she slipped entirely out of the door, hearing it thud heavily behind her and seal shut again.  
Her heels clicked in the silence as she walked back through the corridor, a sinking feeling digging into her ribs.

Of course she trusted Nines. He was a brilliant scientist, and he had people’s best interest in mind. He’d gotten into this field to learn more about and make life better for newly discovered species. But asking her to just keep this a secret- that would be compromising years of research, the entire _point_ of the facility. If somebody found out in a week, a month, a _year_ that GV1 was emitting electrical signals, Nines would be fired on the spot. She knew it would hurt him if he was taken into intensive lab testing, yes. But at least they would still have a livelihood.

Ada paused to check the lights and door locks, before she keyed in her passcode to leave the chamber. She needed to think on it. She needed some sleep to consider her options.

She just hoped Nines would finally get some, too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> well i know a lot more about fish than i did when i started so i'm counting it as a win  
> i'm SO soft for nines and ada's friendship y'all i would protect it with my life


	10. Day 9- SickFic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Day 9- SickFic**  
>  **Lovable, But Still An Idiot**  
>    
> Gavin gets sick, and will make that everybody else's problem.

“You’re an idiot. An absolute idiot. Sometimes I cannot _physically comprehend_ how infuriating you are.”

Gavin groaned, flopping an arm over his eyes to cover them from the light. “If I agree with you, will you stop pacing?”

“I told you to bring your jacket three times,” Nines continued, ignoring him, “ _t_ _hree times_ , and you still didn’t. And now you’re wondering why you’re sick. _Unbelievable_.”

“Look, how was I supposed to know I was gonna get a fever?”

“We were staking out the _riverside_ , in the _middle of winter_.”

He screwed up his nose petulantly, rolling over and staring up at his boyfriend. Nines put his hands on his hips and stared right back. He was still pacing the living room floor, as he had been for the last ten minutes. Gavin hugged his hot water bottle tightly to his chest. Half of him was too hot, half of him was too cold, and which half was which seemed to change every ten seconds.

“Y’know, if somebody had let me put the car heating on, it wouldn’t have been a big deal,” he grumbled. 

Nines threw his hands up in exasperation. “It’s called a _stake out_ , Gavin. The point is not to make noise.”

“Yeah, well- shut up. Has anybody ever told you you’re the worst nurse ever?”

“Oh, I’m terribly sorry, let me take away the hot water bottle, tea, blanket and dinner I got for you.”

He gripped the blanket tighter. “Don’t you dare.”

Nines just shook his head. There was no real anger behind it, but Gavin stuck his tongue out at him anyway. 

The android sighed and stopped his pacing, examining him a second time before rounding the coffee table and kneeling down next to the couch. Now at eye level, Gavin rolled over a little more from where he was huddled over the water bottle to meet him face-to-face. 

“You’re an idiot,” Nines repeated, pressing the back of his hand to Gavin’s forehead. “Hm. Your fever seems to be letting up a little, but it’s still quite high.”

Gavin almost went cross-eyed trying to look at his hand. “What, your scanners broken or something?”

“Not at all,” he turned his hand over and smoothed some hair away from his face, letting it come to rest against his jaw, “you just made it a personal challenge.”

Gavin snorted. “Of course. Leave it to you to make looking after your sick boyfriend a matter of pride.”

He leaned in and pressed a kiss to his forehead, pulling away just enough to say, “one of us has to have some.”

Gavin squirmed until he was far up enough on the couch to capture his lips with his own. “When I get off this couch, I’m gonna kick your ass.”

“You’re welcome to try. I’ll hide all the hot water bottles in the house.”

“I hate you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i relate to gavin on a visceral level tbh  
> i also made a meme i wanted to post for this one but for the absolute LIFE of me i can't figure out how to make it work on here  
> hope y'all are doing well :)


	11. Day 11- All Human AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Day 11- All Human AU**   
>  **Nerves**
> 
> Gavin's definitely not freaking out about meeting Nines' mother. Totally. He's fine. Stop asking.

"Stop panicking.”

"I'm not panicking.”

“Yes, you are. I _know_ you are, because you’re in your fight or flight stance.”

“Shut up. I'm calm. I've never been less panicked in my entire life. You're panicked."

Nines sighed, taking another careful sip from his drink. Gavin was practically bouncing up and down where he stood, eyes darting around the room. It was an anxious tick that Nines had seen a thousand times before, but under wildly different circumstances- instead of holding a gun and getting ready to make an arrest, he was clutching a delicate champagne flute with white knuckles and standing awkwardly amongst the growing crowd of party-goers.

The hotel was in the centre of the Detroit business quarter. It was a tall building of shimmering glass, and sleek, flat metal panelling. The function hall was beautiful, all things considered- the floor was glinting black marble splintered by veins of bright crystal, and the lights hung on the walls cast a soft blue and pink glow over the entire room. Gavin wanted to throw up.

He could usually survive a night like this. A couple hours of tolerating and indulging the higher ranking officers, maybe a few FBI agents, and then he could go home, eat the celebration cake Nines made them, and go to bed. He figured he deserved to suffer through a few painful hours of attention as karma for being such an asshole on a regular basis. He could deal with that.

But this was a whole new ballpark. One that he was uniquely ill-equipped to deal with.

He hadn’t noticed his grip on the glass had tightened until Nines gently pried it out of his hands. "If I'd known you would get so worked up, I wouldn't have told you she was coming. It's a party, Gavin, relax.”

“I’m relaxed. I’m fine. Don’t I look fine?”

Nines raised an eyebrow. “You arrest dangerous criminals for a living, and you’re afraid of meeting my mother.”

“Okay, first of all, I’m not _afraid_. I’m just… what’s that pretentious word you use all the time? Perturbed. Second, I don’t hang around the criminals enough for them to judge my personal life,” Gavin muttered, reaching for another glass on a passing tray. “Or the fact that I’m dating their son.”

“You’re being dramatic. This entire party is to celebrate you and your team’s achievements. I’d say that’s a bit impressive,” Nines said, and gestured to the sign at the door reading ‘ _4 th Task Force Celebration Evening’ _in bold letters. Gavin scrunched his nose up at it. “Besides, my mother is perfectly friendly. It’s a wonder I turned out so high maintenance. You’ll be fine. Just smile, be nice, be yourself.”

He paused, trying to tell if he was kidding or not. “That’s… such bad advice. Maybe the _worst_ advice you’ve ever given me. Nobody likes myself. _I_ don’t like myself.”

“I like you.”

“You don’t count, you’re my boyfriend. Look, Nines, babe, I appreciate it, but you of all people know I’m not exactly the most popular person in this room.”

Nines sighed and placed a hand on his back. “Look, Tina and Valerie will be here in about half an hour. If you’re still that uneasy, you can go and hide with them, and I’ll stay with my mother.”

“No, that’s not- look, I do want to meet her. I’m just-” he ran a flustered hand through his hair, messing up the careful coif he’d plastered it into. Nines frowned at the agitated motion. “I’m just fucking nervous, okay?”

“Gavin, there is no reason for her not to like you.”

“You’re absolutely right. I’ll just dazzle her with my charm and wit. ‘ _Good evening, Dr. Schaeffer, it’s lovely to meet you. I’m the guy who treated your son like shit for a year after he joined the force, got him shot by a serial killing megalomaniac and put into a coma, then magically resurrected him with the power of love and now we’re dating. Isn’t this a fun party?_ ’”

The hand on his back poked him lightly in the ribs. “ _Stop it._ She’s going to love you.”

Gavin grumbled as Nines moved again to hug him from behind, pressing a quick kiss to the side of his head. “Jesus. If she calls you tomorrow demanding we break up, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

Another light kiss. “You’re so dramatic.”

Though the din of the room was loud, Gavin was keeping an ear out for the name of every new person who walked through the doors. Nines’ hand finding his and grasping it helped a little, but he still felt close to passing out. He swallowed the lump in his throat and tried to relax the tremble out of his hands.

A sliver of light lanced across the floor as the door swung open again, and a prickle of anxiety ran across his skin. Each new person to enter the room meant they were one person closer to it being Nines’ mother. He closed his eyes, willing himself to breathe a little more deeply, just as he heard a thickly accented voice ask politely,

“Reservation for Dr. Maria Schaeffer?”

Nines glanced over his shoulder. His face lit up as he gave a small wave to signal someone over, untangling himself from Gavin quickly. His stomach sank, and it took his ability to speak down with it. He shoved his new glass onto the table before it dropped to the cold floor.

“You’ll be fine,” Nines murmured again, as Gavin caught sight of a tall, auburn-haired woman making her way across the floor towards them.

“Yeah,” he responded, quietly, “how could this go wrong?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! So needless to say I won’t be getting this done by the end of July. Sorry I got so behind schedule, life kind of got majorly in the way. I hope going into August doesn’t bother anyone, I’ve still got half finished drafts of most of the prompts in like four different documents, so I definitely want to finish it out one way or another. Thank you so much for reading :)
> 
> It probably doesn't help that I rewrote this one about nine times but that's showbiz bay-be!!


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